


Khoshekh Doesn't Do Christmas Sweaters

by hobbit_hedgehog



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cats in Sweaters, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Sweaters, Humor, M/M, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2835590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbit_hedgehog/pseuds/hobbit_hedgehog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my WTNVSS gift for Tumblr user larchanddragonheartstring!  Carlos tries to help a Night Vale Community Radio host put Christmas sweaters on Khoshekh and his kittens.  Merry Christmas!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Khoshekh Doesn't Do Christmas Sweaters

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said in the summary, this is my WTNV Secret Santa gift for Tumblr user larchanddragonheartstring. I saw that she wanted a Carlos and Khoshekh fic so I decided to write a little holiday fic about Christmas sweaters. I hope that she enjoys the fic and has a wonderful Christmas!

Christmas in Night Vale was one of the many things that Carlos failed to comprehend about the small desert community. The mysterious hooded figures were going around singing frankly creepy renditions of “Let It Snow” and “All I Want for Christmas is You” to anyone not wearing an ugly Christmas sweater, causing them to blink in and out of existence until they corrected that mistake. And another thing, the City Council was in full support of the mysterious hooded figures’ activity and had in fact mandated that everyone and they meant EVERYONE, wear an ugly Christmas sweater for the entire month of December. Getting into the Christmas spirit was something that Carlos could understand, but Night Vale was still in the middle of the desert. December or not, it was still too hot for it to be sweater weather. However, Carlos didn’t want to explain to Cecil why he was blinking in and out of existence on Christmas, so he grudgingly pulled out the ugliest Christmas sweater he owned, a gift from his post docs back home, and wore it around town. Cecil seemed right at home in his own hideous sweater, an oversized monster with near orange red color that clashed with the venomous green trim, showing it off like a peacock whenever they went out.

“I just love the holidays,” Cecil had said one night as they watched someone being placed in an ambulance to be taken in for heat stroke treatment.

“Uh huh…” Carlos had replied, making a mental note to start carrying extra water bottles and a handheld fan with him for the rest of the month.

The other thing about the sweaters that irked Carlos was that the City Council’s “everyone” extended to Night Vale’s animals as well as Night Vale’s citizens. And that’s how Carlos found himself standing outside of the men’s bathroom of Night Vale Community Radio, several ugly, cat-sized sweaters in hand.

“Remind me why I’m doing this?” Carlos muttered more to himself than to the intern standing next to him.

“Mister Palmer wanted us to make sure Khoshekh and his kittens don’t blink out of existence because they aren’t wearing sweaters,” the intern replied, pushing the bathroom door open.

“And why can’t the other interns help you with this?” Carlos asked.

“Because the other interns keep blinking in and out of existence,” the intern replied as he followed Carlos inside.

“But I’m allergic to cats,” Carlos grumbled, but his complaint went unheard by the intern.

“Hey kitties,” the intern cooed. “We’ve got some presents for you!”

There was a chorus of— oh God, was that what their meows were supposed to sound like?—mewls from the kittens as the intern patted the closest one, avoiding its spine ridges with ease. The intern held up a sweater and the kitten eyed it with something akin to suspicion.

“Oh come on kitty,” the intern crooned. “You’ll look so cute in it. Doctor the Scientist, can you help me out over here?”

“My name’s not-… Whatever,” Carlos huffed, placing his own pile of sweaters on the sink and moving to stand next to the intern. “So what’s the plan?”

“I hold the cat and you put the sweater on it?” suggested the intern.

“Fine.” Carlos replied as he took the sweater from the intern, wishing he had some Claritin at the very least.

“Okay, on three,” the intern instructed. “One…. Two…. THREE!”

~~

_‘Cecil better love me for this,’_ Carlos thought to himself as he wrangled the final kitten into its sweater.

Carlos and the intern had been at it for the better part of a half an hour, each kitten taking roughly five minutes to put into a sweater. There had been several close calls as Carlos grazed the vicious spine ridges of some of the more mature kittens, but so far the only damage was Carlos’s allergies acting up. Nose stuffed and eyes running, Carlos was thrilled when the last kitten was wearing its sweater. The kitten glared and mewled angrily at Carlos and Carlos returned the glare half-heartedly.

“Okay, looks like Khoshekh is the only one without a sweater,” the intern said, brushing his scratched hands against his jeans.

Carlos merely nodded and picked up the largest and ugliest sweater of the collection they had brought in. It was a puke green and neon red creation and just looking at it made Carlos’s head ache. Khoshekh, meanwhile, had been staring at the duo and, noting the distress of his kittens, had begun emitting deep, throaty growls of warning.

“Hey Khoshekh,” the intern crooned at the cat. “We have a little present for you too! You get to match with your kittens! Isn’t that great?”

_‘I’m right there with you on that one Khoshekh,’_ Carlos thought as the agitated cat hissed at the intern.

“Sorry Khoshekh, but this has to be done,” the intern apologized, “otherwise you’ll blink in and out of existence and ruin the holiday spirit.”

Khoshekh let out another low pitched hiss and the intern threw Carlos a look, “On three,” the intern mouthed.

“If you say so,” Carlos mouthed back.

“One…. Two…. THREE!” the intern shouted before he and Carlos rushed the floating, hissing cat.

~~  
“I wonder how things went,” Cecil said to himself after signing off and powering down his radio equipment. “I’d better go check on them.”

Cecil stood and stretched before exiting the booth and making his way down the hallway. The empty corridor amplified the sounds of Cecil’s footsteps as he moved at a steady pace towards the men’s bathroom.

_‘I’ll bet Khoshekh and the kittens look absolutely adorable in their little winter sweaters!’_ Cecil thought as he reached the bathroom door. With a flourish, Cecil pushed the door open and strode inside. “Carlos? Khoshekh? How did things go-- -gods, what happened in here?”

The bathroom was trashed. Carlos was panting and leaning against one wall, a shallow gash on his right forearm and his face puffy from allergies. The intern Cecil had sent in with Carlos was lying unmoving on the floor. Khoshekh was floating in his usual place, a content look on his face and the sweater in shreds on the floor. Pieces of sweater clung to Khoshekh’s spine ridges and he rolled so his stomach was exposed for Cecil, a loud purr permeating the bathroom. Cecil moved forward and rubbed Khoshekh’s stomach.

“Did a certain someone not like his sweater?” Cecil cooed as he rubbed circles on Khoshekh’s tummy. “Daddy worked really hard to make that you know.”

Khoshekh merely purred in response and Cecil turned to look at Carlos, “You alright?”

“I’ll be fine after I get some antihistamines,” Carlos replied. “I’m not so sure about your intern though. Khoshekh got him with a venomous scratch and he dropped like a rock.”

“I’ll be sure to mention his passing on tomorrow’s show,” Cecil said after a moment. “In the meantime…-”

“I’m not…-dead yet,” came a weak voice from the floor.

“Oh… Alright then,” Cecil said, a bit shocked that the intern was still alive. “Carlos, can you call for an ambulance? I’m going to deal with Khoshekh.”

“I wouldn’t…-” Carlos began, but Cecil waved him off.

“Not to worry, I made a spare one for Khoshekh in case something like this happened,” Cecil assured the scientist, leaving the bathroom and reappearing a few minutes later with another sweater. Cecil quickly slipped the sweater onto Khoshekh and scratched the cat behind the ears. “There, how’s that? Better?”

Carlos’s jaw dropped as Khoshekh’s purring grew louder and the cat leaned into Cecil’s hand. Satisfied, Cecil turned to Carlos, “Have you called for the ambulance yet?”

“Huh? Oh, no, hang on,” Carlos hastily replied, pulling his phone out and dialing 911. After giving the information to the dispatcher, Carlos turned to Cecil, “They’re on their way. Also, how did you do that so easily? It took us forever to deal with the kittens and Khoshekh was having none of it.”

“Silly Carlos, you made it way more complicated than you needed to,” Cecil said with a laugh. “All you had to do was put Khoshekh’s on first. The kittens would have cooperated instantly and taken less time.”

Carlos stared at Cecil for a moment before covering his face with his hands and groaning; he didn’t understand this holiday tradition.


End file.
